


You taste like lucky strikes

by twilightemperor



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: French Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23038849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightemperor/pseuds/twilightemperor
Summary: Jinseong tastes like ash and smoke. Sanghyeok shouldn’t like it this much, but he does.
Relationships: Park "Teddy" Jin-seong/Lee "Faker" Sang-hyeok
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	You taste like lucky strikes

Jinseong inhales deep, holding the smoke and his breath. He lets it sink into his system, and he gently exhales out, ring puffs floating in the air. Sanghyeok watches curiously, curled up on the couch, head tilted in interest. The house is silent, everyone else having gone out for lunch. Jinseong had opted to stay home, claiming he had a stomach ache. Sanghyeok had slept in, having gotten back late last night after a long dinner with the higher ups.

“Hyung, want some?” Jinseong offers, extending his left hand out, the stick tucked between his pointer and middle finger. “It’s menthol. It's my favourite.” 

Sanghyeok looks hesitantly, eyeing the burning stick. He shakes his head, and looks back down at his book. He can’t remember the first time Jinseong picked up this habit; his memories of the previous year kept under lock and key and pushed into the deepest depths of his mind. He doesn’t want to think about 2019, and neither does he want to remember 2018.

Jinseong laughs. “You’re scared to try? You look like you want to try it, though.” 

“It’s bad for health,” Sanghyeok mutters. “You shouldn’t smoke so much.” 

“It calms me down. You know how it is,” Jinseong says. 

Sanghyeok licks his own chapped bottom lip. “I know,” he says softly.

Jinseong perks up, a mischievous grin on his face. “I can let you try it without direct contact with the cigarette, if you want.” He gets Sanghyeok’s attention, eyes twinkling in interest. He pads forward and joins the older boy on the couch, cigarette still in his left hand. 

The smoke blows in Sanghyeok’s direction, causing him to scrunch his nose. He uncurls his body, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“I’ll let you experience it. Move closer, hyung,” Jinseong purrs, sitting next to him, his right thigh pressing against the outer area of Sanghyeok’s thigh. “Turn your head here and get ready.” 

“What are you going to do?” Sanghyeok asks apprehensively, obeying the younger boy’s orders for once. The grin on Jinseong’s face tells him that it’s probably not a good idea.

“Open your mouth, I’ll let you try smoking without actually holding a cigarette,” Jinseong explains, although his explanation is vague and unhelpful. “Don’t inhale too deep, just keep the smoke in your mouth or exhale it if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” 

Sanghyeok parts his lips, watching as Jinseong takes a short drag on his cigarette stick. He then moves in, his hand on Sanghyeok’s jaw, tilting his head up. He moves close so his lips are nearly pressed against Sanghyeok’s plush ones, and blows a little smoke into his mouth slowly. Sanghyeok sucks in the smoke and pulls away quick, holding it in his breath. 

It doesn't taste terrible; it’s just not the best. But Sanghyeok’s lived his entire life restrained and tied down. Jinseong looks so free and happy when he's holding that cancer-inducing stick. 

“Puff it out when you want to, hyung,” Jinseong instructs, and Sanghyeok follows, blowing out the white smoke that dissipates into the air. “You did great for a first-timer. You like it?” 

“It’s not bad,” Sanghyeok comments, turning away to hide his face, already feeling the heat on his cheeks because of their close physical proximity. 

Jinseong hums. “Want to try it more?” He gets no response, so he gently holds on to the older boy’s wrist, pulling him back. “Hyung, you can tell me if you don’t like it.”

“I don’t hate it,” Sanghyeok mutters, turning away again. His lips are tingling, and his chest is thumping away crazily. He picks up his book, fiddling with the pages to distract himself.

“So that’s not a no, right?” Jinseong comments, already used to the older boy’s vague way of talking. “Want to try it again, hyung?” 

Sanghyeok sighs, and places his book down onto the tiny coffee table next to the couch. “One more time. I don’t know why you’re so bent on making me do this.” 

“Because you look like you want it,” Jinseong says. “I can see it on your face, hyung. You’re just scared to try it directly, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up,” the older boy replies, the statement ringing true. “Hurry up, then.” 

“Hold on, we should get into a more comfortable position,” Jinseong comments playfully, his gaze dangerous and hungry. He clambers onto his lap, resting his knees on either side of Sanghyeok’s thighs. “Hold still,” he whispers. He sucks on his cigarette again, holding the smoke with ease. He leans down, deliberately parting his lips just an inch away from Sanghyeok’s, and blows the smoke ever so slowly. His left hand holds the cigarette away from their bodies, careful not to accidentally let the ashes drop onto Sanghyeok's lap. 

Sanghyeok’s eyelids are shut when he does it, but his eyes open again slowly as soon as Jinseong pulls away. The breath he exhales comes out in an ashy haze. 

“What an expert,” Jinseong teases. Sanghyeok punches his stomach lightly. 

“There, it’s done. Get off of me, you brat,” Sanghyeok comments, keeping his tone disinterested. 

“If you wanna try it again on another day, just tell me.” Jinseong grins again, sliding off, his feet landing on the floor in a loud thump. “Hope you liked it,” he says breezily, and walks back to the open window to finish the last bits of his cigarette before snuffing it out in his empty can of soda on the window sill. 

The ashy taste sticks in Sanghyeok’s mouth. He sighs, sticking his tongue out in half-disgust. He ignores the way his own chest feels warm.

“Bad taste?” Jinseong laughs. All he gets is a scrunched nose in response. “You have to get used to it. You’re the only one who knows my secret. I can’t smoke in front of anyone else.” 

“It tastes strange,” Sanghyeok complains. 

Jinseong crushes his soda can and goes to the kitchen to throw it away. The window is still open, presumably to let the heavy scent in the air fade off. He clambers back onto the couch, slinging a stray arm around the older boy. “Want to get used to it, then?” 

“Not really,” Sanghyeok replies, but he gets a lapful of Jinseong again. Their bodies are impossibly close, and for once, Sanghyeok feels small. 

“Can I kiss you, hyung?” Jinseong whispers. From where he is, he gets full view of the blush on the older boy’s face. It’s cute, so unlike the team leader’s usual calm and composed demeanour when they’re practicing. 

Sanghyeok turns away, resisting in his typical fashion. Jinseong places his arms on bony shoulders to balance himself. “All you need to do is say no, hyung,” he mutters, leaning in. 

“Fine,” Sanghyeok replies under his breath. “Kiss me.” His eyes are half-lidded, peering up at Jinseong under long lashes. 

Jinseong doesn’t hesitate. He moves in, carefully tilting his head to make sure their glasses don’t get in the way. His lips press against chapped, pouty ones, feeling the warmth from the older boy as he sinks down to sit fully on Sanghyeok’s thighs. He curls his fingers through black locks of hair, pulling lightly as he registers the feeling of Sanghyeok’s unsure hands creeping up his waist to pull him in closer. 

He smiles into the kiss, guiding the older boy slowly, letting him get used to the movements. For someone his age, Sanghyeok is all clumsy and uncertain. Jinseong doesn’t blame him, nor does he mind. The older boy has spent years of his childhood obtaining records and winning every single League competition there is. 

He tugs harder on Sanghyeok’s hair, earning a tiny gasp from the older boy. Jinseong seizes the opportunity, slipping his tongue past parted lips to share the taste of ash and smoke, licking languidly at the other boy’s tongue. He gets a shy mewl, and he savours it, liking the way Sanghyeok’s cool hands press against the thin fabric of his shirt.

When they eventually separate, it’s because of the sound of their main door unlocking, the distant voices getting noisy and loud. Jinseong moves quick, sliding off Sanghyeok’s lap and into the space next to him, shutting his eyes and pretending to be asleep. He places his head down onto the arm of the sofa, letting his glasses slip down his nose bridge. 

Sanghyeok picks up his book at the speed of light, pretending to be immersed in his reading. His lips are warm, and he presses them together so he can save some of the warmth that’s slowly fading. The ashy taste in his mouth tastes bearable somehow.

“Hi, Sanghyeok-hyung, you’re finally awake!” Woochan greets, carrying two plastic bags. “We got food for you and Jinseong-hyung.” 

“Thanks. Leave it on the table in the kitchen,” Sanghyeok instructs. “And tell the others not to be so loud. Jinseong is asleep.” 

Woochan unhelpfully repeats his order out in a yell, causing Jinseong’s shoulders to shake as he struggles to hold in his laughter. Sanghyeok sighs and pushes his own glasses up his nose bridge, feeling an impending head ache coming. 

“If I see anyone lingering around here, I’m going to tell the management to cut their pay,” Sanghyeok threatens jokingly. Woochan winces dramatically, clutching at his heart. 

“I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet,” he chants, and runs to tell the rest who are tumbling in after kicking off their shoes at the doorway. Everyone ends up going back to their own rooms, and Jinseong finally cracks open an eye after a long moment of silence. 

“You little shit,” Sanghyeok whispers. 

Jinseong just grins at him, looking like the Cheshire Cat. “Want to continue in your bedroom?”


End file.
